What Is and What Should Never Be
by Hellsbane
Summary: Something happened that day, chasing the White Stag and refinding the Spare Oom. That night, as Lucy lay back in her bed in the Manor, she couldn't shake this feeling and returned to the wardrobe, Peter right at her side. After the Professor left them, they retried anyways and found themselves back in their real home, with a new danger looming too close for comfort. R&R please!


**Hellsbane here, so this is my first fic posted here - try to be gentle, ne? I don't own The Chronicles of Narnia nor any of it's characters. I do, however, own Talhuk and Alvistair and this stories' plot so no stealy! I'm not stealing either, that's what this thing is for! Also, please Read & Review, any and all Reviews are much appreciated and I'd very much like some feedback!**

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"Don't walk behind me; I may not lead.

Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow.

Just walk beside me and be my friend." -Albert Camus

_**Chapter One: The Sea Wolf**_

A Salty breeze blew in, dancing and twirling about the long planks and skipping giddly across the deck and down the creaky stairs and through a slightly cracked door. Sheets, crimson in color and silky in quality, lay rumpled and piled in a messy heap on the floor beside a dark ashen bed, the owner of said bed let out a delighted laugh, tired eyes opening and seeking out the assailant, but was left with nothing but a mere whisper of a promise of more to come. Throwing bare legs over the corner of the bed, the young sailor rose and stretched, taut stomach stretched out and scared, barred for all to see and not truly caring. Years upon years on a ship can do that to a person, especially years on a ship with mostly men. Of course, with that being said, the men mostly paid her no mind - it was impolite after all, not that their manners didn't need working on because they most certainly did; however, one wrong look at the young woman and their tongues would be served as dinner, perhaps even their hands and eyes depending on the Captain's mood.

"G'morn'" a raspy voice broke through the barrier of the door and stocky man entered, cheeks flushed from the heat of the day and beard already stained with Ale, though that could have been from the previous night. "Cap' wishes ta see ya'," the man grunted again and knocked his head down in a show of respect, not that it was needed any longer.

The woman smiled tenderly at the stocky, miniature man and bent at the waist, pressing a kind kiss upon his brow, "Thank you, Shalv." The Dwarf's cheeks flushed even brighter than before and he stumbled out of the room. It was not uncommon for the woman to be so affectionate to the crew, not that it mattered any though. As the Dwarf shut the door firmly, the woman sighed and dipped her head back, eyes as bright and blue as the very waters she currently sailed on fluttered shut and her back hit the stiff mattress below. She remained in that position for what seemed like seconds but was truly a good thirty minutes or so before she rose once more and went about getting ready. Unlike a majority of the crew with which she sailed, the woman was a stickler for a bath and was adamant in taking one each morning when she woke up. She scrubbed the grime from the night off of her rapidly reddening flesh and scrubbed the muck from her auburn hair. She never bothered to soak in the water, disgusted by the filth that filled it and she was far too busy to wait for fresh water to be drawn and heated so she could then soak too. So, as she finished rinsing the strawberry scented suds from her scalp, she rose and wrapped a woolen towel around herself and stared at her bed, eyeing the garb laid out upon her bed and sighed once more.

After a good pat down, the towel fell to the wooden floor and she slipped into her undergarments. The loose, breathable pants came next, encircling her waist and sitting snugly in place as she bent to pull her socks on next. It was uncommon, her brother had once told her with a laugh. Putting your socks on before you shoes was just beyond strange, for a girl anyways. That had been a long time ago though, and she still didn't care. Next came the Poet's shirt, engulfing her petite form and yet still managing to cling to her bosom and curves. Had she been going to see anyone else, she might have donned the coat folded neatly over the foot of her bed, but as she wasn't, she left it in its place. She continued to clothe herself slowly, thoughts running rampant as she recalled the many mornings when she had to wait on her sister to finish getting ready.

It seemed like forever ago now, and perhaps it was - time was different after all. With a soft sigh, once again, the woman forced herself away from the bed and out of the room. Her head bobbed occasionally in greeting as her friends and companions bustled about, doing their duties and then some. Her feet carried her down the familiar path to the Captain's Quarters, the door wide open expectantly awaiting her arrival. That wasn't what got her entering the room however - no, the thick voice, smoothed and graceful as ever, from her childhood is what pushed her feet into a frenzy. Stumbling and tripping over herself, the woman threw herself into the room, bright eyes widening ever so slightly as a smile caught her lips. The two other occupants of the room turned their attention to the woman then, startled by the intrusion but not completely surprised. "Mr. Tumnus!" The Woman Exclaimed, throwing herself into the awaiting arms of the Faun, a laugh bubbling in her throat as the creature twirled her with mirth.

"Dear One," the creature hummed in acknowledgement, not yet relinquishing his hold on the young woman. He'd not addressed her formally in many seasons, upon her beseechment of course. The queen was adamant in her dear friend being just that, and not just another one of her subjects. "You're looking well," the Faun mused with a tender smile, a soft hand reaching out to touch the dark hair upon her head fondly.

"And you," she responded with another laugh and smile, throwing herself back into the warmth of the Faun. "I've missed you," she confessed warmly, nimble fingers curling into the thick fur upon his back. "The sea is so boring sometimes, and Peter isn't any fun anymore." Her words came out serious, and yet the three of them knew she was joking. Peter tolerated her mischief more than he ought to really, not that he minded. The young queen was all the High King had anymore, and she was all he needed at that moment. "Are you staying long," she fired off, drawing away just far enough to glance up at the handsome face of her beloved, and most trusted, friend.

"A Few days, I'm afraid," Tumnus announced, turning his attention back to the high king though still refusing to let the young Queen go. "The Centaurs have returned from Land - they caught the Rebel Leader," he informed just as the clatter of hooves on deck sounded and bounced through the cabin. Moments later the trio were joined by two of the massive, proud beasts. A thick, fussing bag was dragged along with them, muffled snarls emerging from it. As the bag was jerked open, a thick mass of black fur came toppling out, rolling and squirming. Tumnus maneuvered himself in front of the shell shocked queen whose eyes had grown even wider at the site of the bound and bloodied creature. "Talhuk, your Majesties," the Faun informed yet again, a sneer in his words. Since the fall of the White Witch, the Faun had become harsher and more resolute in his advisement of finding the remaining Witch's followers. When they'd come across Talhuk's army for the first time - things had not gone well, Lucy remembered. Technically, they were all fighting for the same side, but they had very different methods.

The Wolf bristled and his struggles increased, jowl bloodied and raw as the rope he was bound in rubbed angrily at the flesh. Lucy watched on, heart thundering in her chest as Alvistair, the son of Oreius, lifted his sword high above his head. As the Centaur prepared to deliver the blow, the Queen flew forward and thrust herself atop of the wolf's body, shielding it from whatever might come. "No!" She exclaimed while doing so, tears welling up in her eyes as she stared at the Centaur. "You Coward," she hissed brazenly, eyes narrowing darkly as she continued to shield the wide-eyed wolf, "you'd kill a defenseless creature, bound at your feet with no way of protecting himself! You're no better than our enemies!"

"He is the enemy!" The Centaur roared back, reering and bucking at the Queen who dared not back down. "His kind killed my father and many of our Soldiers!" Tumnus and Peter watched on, neither knowing what to do or which side to stand with. Both had valid points, both were right in what they were doing.

"Peter, please," the woman pleaded, turning her gaze to her brother. "You cannot kill him!" Peter stared at the reddening face of his sister, taking in the dampness on her cheeks and the hold she had on the wolf, he took in the way she melded her body around the creature, unaware and uncaring of the fact that the creature could easily kill her in such a position. "Please…" he noted the way her voice softened, barely coming out as a whisper and wet with tears still yet to be shed.

"He isn't some pet, Lu," the King whispered, rising from his seat and manuevering himself from behind it. "Alvistair is right, he and his kind have killed a great number of our own." He knelt beside his sister and place a hand on her shoulder, "Let him go, Lu."

The Queen tightened her hold in response, "No one deserves to be murdered! No one deserves to be bound and slaughtered," she exclaimed with a broken sob.

"She has a point," Tumnus interrupted, clopping over to his queen and standing at her side, staring at the High King. "This is not the kind of death anyone deserves. Keep him in the cellar until we reach shore, then you can challenge him or he you." He hated to see his queen in such despair, yet he could not understand how she could open her heart to the mongrel. With a sigh, Peter rose and gave a harsh jerk of a nod.

"Fine, but you're taking care of him." His gaze returned to the trembling form of his sister. "The others will not be happy with this predicament, so you're the only one, aside from myself and Mr. Tumnus that is allowed down there - and you are not to release him from his bindings, am I understood?" Ever the protective brother, Peter would be sure the bindings were doubled. Lucy nodded hastily with an appreciative smile and glared at the Centaurs, jerking the leading rope from their hands and looked at the wolf. The two stared at one another for a long moment before the Wolf snarled low in the back of his throat and stalked back to the door, dragging the Queen behind him but not harsh enough for her to lose control of him.

Lucy led the wolf to the Cellars of the Ship, gathering a variety of blankets and laying them out in a dark corner before looking expectantly back at the creature. "You've got to behave," she instructed as the wolf stalked over to the bedding and flopped down, lips curled back in a feral snarl. "I'm trying to save your life," she huffed before laying back against one of the pillars and watching the creature. Talhuk snorted and turned his head from the girl, ears falling back to lay flat against his skull and tail curling around his snout. Sleep did not come easily, not that he expected it to.


End file.
